


Not That Smart, But Smart Enough

by littlechinesedoll



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Lines stolen from Bridge Jones' Baby, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 07:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: Because honestly, just because Eggsy was literally a super spy didn’t mean he was smart. Well, yeah, he was smart, he wasn’tthatsmart. He could react to a situation pretty well if he could say so himself, half-way decent if he was being shot at (Merlin would disagree).





	Not That Smart, But Smart Enough

**Author's Note:**

> my first hartwin fic for fyeahhartwin on tumblr :) 
> 
> please be nice huhu

Great. Just great.

Because honestly, just because Eggsy was literally a super spy didn’t mean he’s smart. Well, yeah, he was smart, he wasn’t _that_ smart. He could react to a situation pretty well if he could say so himself, half-way decent if he was being shot at.

But holy shit being smart didn’t mean he had a brain to mouth filter, or volume control for that matter.

“Are you kidding me Rox?” he all but ranted at a Christmas gathering at the manor. Granted, they were in the hallway nursing flutes of champagne, far from the ballroom where most of the members of Kingsman were mingling.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you were blind to what’s right in front of you, Eggsy,” Roxy chuckled, leaning on a sturdy surface while she took another sip of the champagne.

“I know, I know,” said Eggsy, downing the last half of the flute, “How did I miss it? I mean I’m practically glued to his side,” he wished they had something stronger than the champagne.

“I don’t know,” Roxy answered airily. “Look, Eggsy, I don’t know what you want me to say. You sleep on his couch in his office after missions even though you’re supposed to be at the infirmary, you insist on being his driver on your mandated holidays, you never bring any other Kingsman tea and biscuits as much as you do for Harry, and don’t get me started on your type!”

Eggsy frowned at her. “I don’t have a type!” he argued.

Roxy raised a brow at him. “Alright, let’s recap your last two proper relationships. The first one was a fence, you said, with forgery as his specialty and at the time, he was ten years older than you. The next one, who I think was actually insanely sweet, was a gym instructor _twice as old_ as you, and now Harry—does it ring any bells?”

Eggsy stared at her. “Fuck me,” he said miserably.

Roxy again takes another sip of her champagne. “You know we’d both find that disappointing,”

She did have a point. It was only now he realized, when she pointed it out, that he did have a type. _Older men_. “It’s not like I can help it!” Eggsy insists. “I mean…Rox have you seen the guy?”

“Yes, Eggsy,” Roxy rolled her eyes at him. “He’s our boss. Of course I’ve seen him,”

“Yeah, but have you _seen_ him?” Eggsy pressed.

“Eggsy,” Roxy sighed.

“He’s got RBF I know, but when he smiles it’s like the sun is fucking you in the face,”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,”

 “And you know it’s hard to get a smile out of him—”

“He smiles at you the most for no reason, Eggsy,”

“—and don’t get me started on those legs, Jesus. He’s literally a walking wet-dream!”

“Eggsy,” Roxy suddenly hissed.

“I mean who wouldn’t find all that class and sophistication attractive? I swear to God I almost creamed myself when he beat up Dean’s thugs in the pub. You think I’m a bit like Elizabeth and Harry’s a lot like Mr. Darcy?”

“Eggsy,” she hissed again, more urgently this time.

“I mean fuckin’ hell, Rox. Why the fuck am I in love with someone thirty years older than me?”

“Eggsy!” she glared at him.

“What!” he frowned back.

Roxy moved her head slightly in a way that gestured for Eggsy to turn around.

Eggsy paled. And because he wasn’t _that_ smart, he bolted.

* * *

 

Bolting to the tube and going back to Savile Row wasn’t a smart idea. Most intended to stay after the party because of all the free-flowing booze and of course the magnificent hangover breakfast the next day. Eggsy did, too, which was why he was standing on Savile Row, with no phone, no glasses, no wallet, and no keys to his house, no umbrella or gun, wearing a coat and scarf he borrowed from Andrew (who was thankfully still there but also on his way to HQ for the party). There was also no cab to take him home since they were at the party, it was freezing, and on top of that, he had to walk home.

Great. Just great.

Because honestly, just because Eggsy was literally a super spy didn’t mean he was smart. Well, yeah, he was smart, he wasn’t _that_ smart. He could react to a situation pretty well if he could say so himself, half-way decent if he was being shot at (Merlin would disagree).

But that situation was something he knew he’d never react smartly to. He probably would have if he hadn’t just realized he was utterly gone for his boss, his mentor. He could’ve just kept his mouth shut, or maybe, he and Roxy could’ve just gone into one of the empty rooms and talked there.

He sighed. His breath condensed in the cold weather, and he was pretty sure he was going to freeze to death. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to borrow gloves from the shop, and his fingers felt like they were going to fall off any moment.

This was one of those times he wasn’t glad he gave his mum her own house. He only did it because he didn’t want to worry her when he hadn’t come home when he promised he would, or when he’d come home with bruises and cuts where tailors shouldn’t have them. Or what if Daisy tripped over an alarm, or pushed a wrong button, and would reveal all his concealed weapons—or worse! Opened a lighter! Eggsy shuddered at the thought.

He stared at his door for a few moments. It didn’t have glass he could punch through, and he didn’t have a key under the mat or buried in the pot by the window, and he certainly didn’t want to destroy his front door’s knob (mostly because he didn’t know how to repair it).

“Bugger,” he cursed, shoving his cold hands into the coat’s pockets.

He took a seat on the bench a few feet away under a lamp post, and leaned on the backrest to stare up at the sky. It was clear; he can see the moon and the stars and it felt almost romantic being under them so close to Christmas. Thank fuck it wasn’t snowing yet. If it did, he’d 100% freeze to death.

Shit, if only he didn’t have such a big mouth. He wasn’t even sure if it was really Harry behind him. He didn’t bother to look. He didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on Harry’s face, hearing one of his agents talking like that about a fellow agent, his own boss—about his _friend_.

“Fuck,”

What kind of infraction was he going to be given now?

But he wanted Harry. He wanted to continue doing what he already did—take care of Harry when he could, make him laugh by doing stupid shit, learn all the things that make Harry tick, and maybe even indulge him and say he wants to know what’s so special about all Harry’s favorite butterflies.

He sat there for a while, staring at the stars, but it became too cold to just sit there, so he adjusted his scarf to keep the heat of his breath down his neck, and hunched forward, trying his best to keep his hands under his pits and the warmth in his core. When he started to shiver, he thought it might be best to walk back to the shop and take the tube back to the manor and just…face Harry.

“Eggsy!”

Eggsy looked up. A really tall man was rushing towards him. “H-Harry?”

“For heaven’s sake!” Harry frowned, taking off his coat to wrap around Eggsy’s shivering frame. “What on earth are you doing out here? It’s freezing!”

“Locked myself out. I left all my things at HQ. No keys, no phone, no glasses,” Eggsy gave him a rueful smile. “No lockpicking kit. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Well it seems, I can always find time to save the world,” Harry tightened the coat around Eggsy in attempt to warm him up. “But you’re my world, Eggsy. My darling boy,”

Eggsy blushed, reddening from his cheeks, to his nose and to the tip of his ears. He just stared up at Harry, taking a few seconds to absorb what he’d just heard. “Even if I’m not capable of making emotionally smart decisions?”

An amused laugh burst out of Harry. “You’re plenty smart enough for me, Eggsy,”

Swaddled in the warmth of Harry’s coat, Eggsy watched Harry demolish his doorknob. They spent the night cuddling by the fire, and honestly, this was way better than getting shitfaced at the Kingsman holiday party.


End file.
